


The Snow Never Seemed So Bright

by WHVLE



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Bisexual Mike Wheeler, Depression, Developing Relationship, Fluff, Gay Will Byers, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, Self-Harm, Slurs, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:55:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27677042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WHVLE/pseuds/WHVLE
Summary: Will does not adapt well to his new life in Maine quite like El, prompting many self-realizations and discoveries. An impromptu trip back to Hawkins for Christmas vacation may be the spark needed to start the fire.-Post S3 Byler Fic-I am normally a comedic writer that wanted to tell a much more serious story. This fic will tackle heavy topics such as depression and self-harm, please do not read if you do not want that! I plan on making this a multi-chapter work and have a benchmark of around 60k words for the story I have planned thus far. Feedback is much appreciated!
Relationships: Will Byers & Mike Wheeler, Will Byers/Mike Wheeler
Comments: 4
Kudos: 12





	The Snow Never Seemed So Bright

“Will! Will honey, wake up!” the maternal voice shouted followed by a few halfhearted knocks on the teenage boy’s locked door. Inside the triple-stacked pile of blankets, Will awoke in groans and stirs. As of recently, he always woke up more tired than he went to bed, never seeming to get enough sleep, no matter when he decided to call it a night. After managing to sit upright, he squinted out the window to avoid being blinded by the morning light and was met with an endless expanse of silky-white snow extending far into the leafless forest. With a sigh, he rubbed the morning crust out of his eyes and pulled the blanket up further, hugging it around his knees. He hated Maine winters. They always seemed to last longer than they were tolerated and brought nothing but a blank canvass to normally colorful nature. They were an unbearable combination of too cold mixed with too much snow that forced his bed to be enclosed with various hand-me-down blankets and quilts. Ever since his family consisting of himself, his mother, Joyce, and his stepsister, Jane had moved to Augusta in September the weather had been nothing but miserable, but he powered through and tried his best to keep a smile on his face at all times, even if it was a losing battle. He envied how Jane could be so open-minded about leaving all their friends and childhoods behind, never seeming to let the dreary weather or living conditions rub off on her. He was just about to contemplate what he would miss at school that day if he faked being sick when he heard…

_Knock. Knock. Knock._ Much more forceful than the previous barrage followed by another pleading call from his mother. “I’m getting up, mom” Will retorted with just enough muster to dispel her worries. “All right honey, I have to go to work now, love you, have a good day at school” Joyce rambled as her footsteps crescendoed down the hallway. Will hated when she threw in that last part, no school day could ever be good, especially in Augusta where he didn’t know anyone besides Jane, who was so engrossed in the high school experience of making friends and joining clubs that he was willing to bet she was already at school even though first period was forty minutes from now. He couldn’t grasp what made her and everyone else enjoy high school so much. In his mind it was a place where he was kept against his will where he was forced to study things that didn’t appeal to him. He didn’t even have any art classes this year, the one thing he is passionate about, because the school board decided that budget cuts needed to be made and new football jerseys were far more important than the arts. He took a few shallow breaths to calm down from the mental rant and opened his bedroom door.

“El?” he called blankly, his voice ringing lonely in the empty house as he walked to the bathroom, grabbing a towel from the mahogany vanity. He was right, she was already at school either for Spanish Club or Student Newspaper or any one of the endless things she participated in. As he turned the debilitated shower nozzle for the hot water the maximum distance, Will couldn’t help but feel ashamed of the jealousy he exhibited towards his stepsister. He knew that she had it much worse than him, having her entire childhood stripped away. He knew that she was just trying to experience firsthand the same world that had wronged her for most of her life. Hell, he knew that he probably wouldn’t be standing there today if it wasn’t for her. In the back of his mind he made a mental note to start being nicer to her and asking more amiable questions about her life.

While Will waited for the ancient shower to finally heat up, which in his experience would take anywhere from two to three minutes, he took his nightshirt off and glanced into the mirror. Will had never been one to like his own appearance, with his vampire-pale skin overcast by his dense, brunette hair that was slightly unkept as it almost reached his shoulders. At just 5’8, he prayed that a growth spurt would match his short, scrawny build to those of his classmates, who were well into the later stages of puberty, but it never seemed to arrive. What he hated most about himself, however, wasn’t anything to do what was on the outside, but what was within. Just once he wanted to be normal in the eyes of those around him, but being a closeted gay teenager trapped in a small-town mentality made even that goal impossible. _Faggot. Fairy._ The two snarling voices of his father and Troy, his old school bully repercussed in his feeble mind, conceding him to the endless rabbit hole of dark thoughts. He thinks of his loneliness and sadness while shaking his head slowly, tears forming in the inner corner of his eyes. _Real men don’t cry_ Those voices repeat in his head, making the tears begin to dive towards his quivering lips. As if in a ritualistic order, next he thinks about his big fight with Mike, the fight where Will knew that Mike would never want to be his friend after. _It’s not my fault you don’t like girls._ The words cut like a switchblade in his brain, etched forever. Will’s crying began to pick up as he sat down and hugged his arms around his knees, the act a placebo of comfort. _It’s not my fault you don’t like girls._ Will continued to spiral, running full speed into the dangerous place that was his mind. How could the things he used to love turn to ones he wished he forgot? He glanced quickly towards the rumbling water adjacent when he spotted it, a silver glimmer in an endless sea of darkness. He quickly recalled hearing kids talking in the hallways about how intoxicated it made them feel, how addicting it could be. Without a reasonable doubt he grabbed the straight razor off the ledge of the bathtub. Holding it up into the light, he traced the twin blades with a disenchanted fingertip and brought it snugly against his left wrist with a shaking whimsy. In that moment Will existed between the seconds of a chronograph, tears continuing to waterfall. _It’s not my fault you don’t like girls_ He imagined the third time as his right arm tugged firmly, turning curious ignorance into copious pain and sparse pleasure. What he didn’t account for was the sheer amount of blood pouring from his wrist, surpassing the flow of his previous tears. Will dropped the razor in an instant and grabbed his opened wrist with his dominant hand while screaming between the sobs, and then he collapsed, and the world faded to black.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone, I decided to stop here to gauge interest on the story. Please comment any feedback and if you would like to see this continued!
> 
> What is a whale's favorite type of music?  
> orca-stra


End file.
